


The Songs They Sing of Us

by BurrSquee, Tikor



Series: Castebook:  Full Moon [5]
Category: Exalted
Genre: Gen, Lunars, POV First Person, Roleplaying Character, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurrSquee/pseuds/BurrSquee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikor/pseuds/Tikor
Summary: Boasts, recriminations, and laments of six Full Moons.





	1. The Songs They Sing of Us: Full Moon

In the wake of victory, songs are sung and tales are told uplifting the victor. This is as true in the deepest Wyld as it is in the heart of the Blessed Isle. So it goes for the Full Moons, wherever they conquer. Yet, no battle kills every foe, and no slain foe is alone in this world. The Full Moons are sung about by their enemies nearly as often as their allies. And, those innocents whose lives combat disrupts often have much to say about their altered circumstances. Read on for a sampling of each.


	2. Strength of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wake of the bull in the fields of men.

**Prince of Shadows on Strength of Many**  
So many souls sent to me by that bull of a man. Slavemasters who cannot forgo their hard-won status and resist Lethe. Free slaves who starve in the wildness yearning to experience yet more freedom oh so fervently that they do not accept death. My chains bind them both, now.

Maybe one day I will express my thanks. Maybe I'll bequeath a gift to him. Something in return for his many gifts. To show my soul-felt appreciation. A mirror of soulsteel, so he may hear them lament their deaths himself, perhaps? I will give it more thought.

Right after my mistress' plan comes to fruition. Of course that takes priority. The conquest of Chiaroscuro goes to plan so far. Grandmother Bright sees how the ghostly dead can pray just as sweetly as her living subjects. Without so much distraction, too.

 **Breeze, the Dream Eaten, to her New Master**  
Who are you? Oh, sure, I’ll answer first. They call me Breeze. I am master Eastson’s special one, and this is my room. How old am I? I don’t remember. Where did I come from? I came from the slaver’s block, the larger one for adults. No, no, sir! I didn’t mean any offense. Yes, no one starts at the slaver’s block, of course you are right. Before that? I was on a wagon, through the desert. No, I do not know whose wagon it was. Yes, I do know where we were travelling from. The Wyld. The Lapis Court in the farthest south.

Oh, yes, I’ve seen the Fair Folk. I was a child of Neshi’s, she of the double whips. Yes, she is very beautiful, and I loved her more than anyone else while I was hers. She often doted upon us, and we were her little darlings. How is it I have any mind left? Now what kind of question is that, silly? Yes, I’ll tell you the story.

One day while Neshi was a-hunting, a large bull-man came to our nursery. He glowed like the full moon with a circle on his face. He slew our homunculi guards and our poppet friends; many among us screamed and were afraid. Ahh! Ahh! Like that! He plucked us up, all ten or so, and put us in a sack. Then we were jumbled for what felt like forever! I woke up in a wagon. I heard him threatening the driver about something... selling us, maybe? And then I got off the wagon at slaver’s block, and now you know! 

No, I don’t remember anything before the Lapis Court. My earliest memories are there. 

Yes, I’ll take off my shirt. Tada! Oh, I forgot! I’m only supposed to go unclothed before master Eastson. He scolded me the last time, when he brought a friend. It wasn’t as bad as the scolding I had the last time I left my room. I have to put it back on now. Oh, good, I’m glad that was enough. 

You’ll be my new master? And I’ll have a new room? Oh, well, I must say my goodbyes, then!


	3. Thorn, Sun and Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk by the well of the hyena.

**Rose Moon and Sun on her Lunar mate, Thorn Sun and Moon**  
My laughing hyena. He brings me joy, and a wildness that helps me see life for the adventure it is. Sometimes my worries fill my head, and he shakes them out. I always see the problems before me clearer when I’ve spent time away from them, time with him. But he’s worth far more to me than just warming my bed. Like throwing out that taxman from Queen Sahula.

It wasn’t enough that our nominal soveriegn conscripted nearly every able-bodied man for the army to fight a war she had no hope of winning, she sent an ask for tribute not months later. All this sacrifice while bandits had bled these villages dry - the army was too distracted to stop them. The central government should be providing protection and assistance, not taking yet more from these simple folk, my kin, who are scrambling to find enough food for winter. I had Thorn throw that taxman out, and he did a great job of it. My mate smiled at him with intent, putting the fear of death into him. He and his former raiders have been the only deterrent to bandit predation we’ve seen in a full year. It is only proper they get our tribute instead of our absent cousins in Roka-Jin. 

I’ve got a thousand problems, but Thorn, my Sun and Moon, is not one.

 **Stag to Hare, Both of the Second Bloody Brothers on their Leader, Thorn Sun and Moon**  
This is the life, innit? I ain’t never been this well fed. I know, Hare, I know, it's because you think I’m a lousy hunter. Well I am, alright? And berries don’t build a body like this. Gotta have some bleeding meat for that!

These ranchers have years of livestock on-hand. And I’ve seen them granaries. Them farmers could hold out a winter or two even through a terrible harvest, easy. They’re so spoiled, they don’t even know it. I saw one dump a bowl of soup the other day because it had sheep’s hair in it! I had half a mind to confront her about it, but Thorn told us not to scare ‘em about petty stuff.

It is kind of weird calling him Thorn. He’s still the same runt we raided with, but he takes that dancing in the moonlight with his new pals pretty serious. Serious enough to change his name. I remember what happened to the last guy who called him his birth-name. But, honest to the Maiden of Secrets, Hare, I don’t remember what it is anymore.


	4. Bulb of the Perfected Lotus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulb of the Perfected Lotus, talk of the tribe.

**Bitter Sap, The Ill Lilly, to Tikor, Truth’s Retriever**  
Am I bitter? About Bulb of the Perfected Lotus? I hope you are just making a pun. No, I see the seriousness in your eyes. The curiosity. ...I’ll answer, then.

No, I am not bitter. I came uninvited into her territory, which I now understand the significance of to a Lunar. I did not yield as a guest. I struck her. She had every right to kill me. Yet she did not. Instead, she chose to teach me. She patched up my wounds. Twice. 

Yes, she inflicted those wounds. Yes, she kept me in a cage. But when the alternative was death, and given the threat I did pose to her and her kin, I’ve moved past blame.

It is more than that, though. We have a connection. I can’t feel it, but it shows clearly through her actions. She’s told me about it as we… as we made love. She freed me. Not just from the cage she put me in, but also from my oath to Arilak. From my mortal life. From my ignorance. From all these hangups I used to have about the world, about life, about my place, about loving men or women, about everything!

So no, I am not bitter, though I could see why you would ask. I didn’t seduce my way out of captivity, if that’s what you’re really asking, either. I have come here to learn of my own volition. I want to know how Lunars see the world since my own view proved so disastrously wrong. I really would have killed Bulb of the Perfected Lotus if she didn’t best me in combat. I would have regretted that forever when her next incarnation came to love me. When we first me, I was not as enlightened as she was then, as she is now. I want to find that enlightenment, that mercy, that strength. I’m ready to embrace change. So let’s get to it.

 **Malak, Son of Bulb of the Perfected Lotus, to the Warriors of the Falling Lotuses Tribe**  
Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on what you most care about in the world. Hold them close in your thoughts. Feel the calmness flow through you from recalling their love. Feel the strength quicken your muscles when you think of them coming to harm. Know that feeling. Summon it. That calm, that quickness, that strength, that love is the core of the Falling Blossom Style. All else comes after that. You must learn what you will give to keep your loved ones safe. To keep your tribe safe. The master of the Falling Blossom Style will give everything. I am no master. You are no master. Together we work towards that mastery. Towards the mastery of our chief and mother, Bulb of the Perfected Lotus.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Feel the wind on your skin. Feel the sun on your face. Hear the pine needles sway. There is no conflict here. We know peace. Our mother protects us. But she cannot be everywhere. She cannot protect everyone. She wants to. We must be there for the tribe when she cannot, where she is not. Krekain, you recall when your daughter fell from that branch and broke her ankle? Right in front of your eyes? You are on the cusp of mastering the first technique, the Living Shield Technique. Think of that time, focus on how much you wanted to prevent that harm. After the Living Shield Technique is the Dual Scarlet Blossom - had you known it then, you could have taken half of that hurt from your daughter. Don’t you want the ability to do that, Krekain? Hold on to that feeling. Feel the Essence it gives birth to.

Stand, Krekain. I brought your daughter here today. You can come out now, little Softpine. Stand behind your father now. Yes, just there. Now, Krekain, I am going to strike Softpine. How do you feel about that? Hold on to that feeling. Put up your guard. Interpose yourself between me and her. Not just physically. Spiritually. Let the Essence flow. I am going to strike now. You are too slow to stop me, I have my mother’s blood. But you can still take the blow, Krekain. I believe in you. Softpine believes in you.

 **Barkfall to his Half-sister Windswept, both Lunar God-blooded of the Falling Blossom Tribe**  
Thank you for your warm welcome, sister. Yes, yes, I have a present for you. But! Before I give it, show me your latest form. I know I can’t leave for a month without you mastering a new one.

...a parrot, excellent! Fine plumage. Luna smiles on you. Alright! Alright, here it is.

It is a mirror-stone. Can you see yourself in it? They show a reflection as clear as still water, but they can be held in one’s hand! I found it among the Gossanter tribe who roam the edge of the world. They had a great need of talismans against the Fair Ones, so I was able to trade for many. That, and tutelage from their thaumaturge. Theirs could summon water from the bare earth into a drinkable pool. Carrying all these heavy stones and no water on the return trip was worrying at first, but after practicing every day and succeeding enough not to die of thirst, I think I’ve mastered the ritual.

I pray mother will approve.


	5. Kajeha Lef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kajeha Lef, leaving impressions.

**The Silver Shadow in Correspondence with The Marked Wolf**  
My hand was guided by Luna yesterday. An unblooded calling herself ‘Kajeha Lef’ was described in dream to me, and where to meet her. I walked to the glen of which I dreamt, and only a few minutes after I had entered did this pup. She was strong and sure, looking at me dead on with her swirling green eyes. But, as martial as she bore herself, you’d be proud that I still made her tell me her story, so that I would get the markings right. She claims to be Luna’s bride, and I have as yet found no evidence to contrive doubt in her extraordinary claim.

It was in the same dream-vision that Luna told me to tattoo this new pup, who said she is to be Luna’s will in Creation. As I made the marks, my hands moved on their own, and the Full Moon filled with Luna’s light on her forehead. The moonsilver swirled in beautiful Clawspeak, marking her as ‘champion’, ‘far-seer’, and ‘fidelitous’. I believe Luna herself helped to guide my hand as I tattooed the sacred moonsilver upon this young woman’s skin. 

The pup’s prayers were so heavy with Essence, I could see them meld with Luna’s sacred metal as I affixed the marks. Within the swirls of moonsilver before they fixed themselves as part of the working, I saw Luna’s hopes for her. I saw the god-blooded children that they will undeniably bear, and I wait in wonder at what such a union will bring forth. I saw the missions she would undertake in our god’s name, from the pole of Earth to the deepest Wyld. I saw how alone she would be to any who saw her, yet I felt how together she would be with Luna in dreams.

But for all the Celestial beauty of the ceremony, I soon thought of politics. The next Gathering will be a-stir with how to greet Luna’s bride. Should we even speak with such a divine sister? Do we attempt to treat her as any other Lunar, worthy of persuading into our pet causes? Or do we grant her a sacred distance, letting her stay on the fringes of all, doing the work of Luna? Not that my opinions on these questions will sway many; I write them so that when your pups will look to you, you will have considered them. Regardless of the should, many will try. Myself, I choose to keep my distance. I’ve seen deep enough into Kajeha Lef’s eyes and have no desire to lose myself in Luna as she has. Each will decide how to interact with Luna’s bride on their own, as it always is among the Pact.

 **Meadow Reed of the Faxai Imperial Guard to Silk Purse, a Caravan Leader Passing Through Faxai, The Caul**  
I see you eyeing that shrine, trader. Best leave it be. It is to an Anathema goddess, yes, but it has survived worse than you, neglected though it is. The Immaculates tell us not to bring a curse upon Faxai by defiling it, and the Dragon-Blooded can only lead us true, says so right in scripture. I can tell you’re not of the faith, so I’ll tell you a story that might engage your sense of self-preservation.

Years ago, a pious man who lived here in Faxai did destroy the shrine after he heard a rumor that a leopard had snuck past the wall defenses to pray at its statue. He broke it into many pieces, spit upon it, pocketed the precious stones and jade, then cast the base rocks far from each other. Nothing happened right away, and so everyone thought nothing would come of it besides one zealot getting rich. 

A year afterwards, a scream was heard all throughout the village. It still haunts me to this day, although I was a child at the time. When his house was inspected, the moon-symbols of the goddess were found smeared in human blood across the ceiling of his fancy new home. Nothing else was found. No more blood. No body. Nothing. It was as though he had never existed. The shrine reappeared at the same time, as though nothing had happened to it. It simply reformed, every stone in its place, every Jade plate as it was, weathering and all.

Some say it was demons who must have stolen the man away. Some say it was the goddess herself that smote him. And others say it was a black devil wearing a leopard’s shape who serves the goddess and does her wicked deeds. All I know is that no one touches the shrine, and some even pray to it now, Dragons save their souls, in a misguided effort to keep us safe. So now that you’ve heard my story, trader, do us all a favor and just move along.


	6. Magnificent Jaguar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnificent Jaguar, sleeping and waking.

**The Cairn of the Jaguar’s Sleep Initiation Log, Entry #83**  
Sleep process initiated. Wake conditions recording operational. Master, when would you like to wake up?

_The video records a travel-weary Magnificent Jaguar entering the reverse aging chamber._

“When the Dragon-Blooded come for me.”

Wake condition: Presence of Dragon-Blooded, recorded. This does not fulfill the necessary requirement of maximum duration. Logs indicate you have **4** wake conditions left to specify.

_The video records Magnificent Jaguar poking his head out of the man-sized chamber that has swallowed his body._

“Wake me when the Lunars are welcome in the world again.”

Wake condition: Termination of Creation-wide Lunar persecution, recorded. This does not fulfill the necessary requirement of maximum duration. Logs indicate you have **3** wake conditions left to specify.

_The video records nothing but the entrance to the tomb-like chamber, shadowed by its own lid, all indications of Magnificent Jaguar hidden within._

“Until I am fully restored to youth. That’s the maximum, isn’t it?”

Wake condition: Maximum de-aging, recorded. This fulfills the requirement of maximum duration. Maximum duration of seven hundred and forty eight standard years, set. Logs indicate you have **2** wake conditions left to specify. Would you like to specify any additional wake conditions?

“No. Take me away from this time. The future cannot be worse.”

 **3** wake conditions recorded. Proceeding to the next phase. Pleasant dreams.

_The video records the lid closing. Then it ends._

**Lilith to her pup Ipo**  
I remember Magnificent Jaguar from the First Age. He was young then, and inexperienced; not ready for the world that we were about to be thrown into. He was dear friends with Contentious Sword. Despite Desus’ request that I only associate with the Sun King Seneschals, I was permitted his company. Though Magnificent Jaguar wasn’t part of the Seneschals, I think because Contentious Sword was part of Desus’ circle, and as Desus’ Circlemate’s Lunar Mate, he was considered safe enough to be around. But, still, I didn’t spend much time with him then.

He was so immature. For me, centuries into my Second Breath, his few decades looked unrefined. He was still enamored with his Celestial gift, willing to flex his muscles wherever he could. His greatest fault in my eyes may have been that he was Contentious Swords’ mate, both of them so focused on the battle and war. It didn’t lead to a good balancing of natures, although I will say that Magnificent Jaguar was far less headstrong as compared to Contentious Sword. His battles were not reported to have the same level of drama that my Solar friend had.

But then I heard that he went to sleep in his last incarnation’s Manse. I commend him for avoiding the bulk of the awful history of our people, but he missed much. Too much, in my opinion. And he never learned to become the elder he should have become. He is still so inexperienced and foolhardy. I was much better myself at his age, however you count it.


	7. Leviathan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interloper's stories of the Great Whale.

**So-Lu-Si’s Visit to the Great Whale God**  
When I was last in the West, out on a patch of water with no land in sight, I saw a whale. A whale as large as the biggest warship surfaced and circled me, eyeing me from its side as I flew back to the Cinder Isles, one giant fin flopping above the waves. I had heard of this whale, one so big he is worshipped as a god. I thought it would be good of me to agitate him by flying through uninvited. We Lunars should remind each other not to court the worship of our mortals, no matter how thoroughly we change them along the river.

I squawked at him; he surfaced and blew water my direction. Not fast enough to dampen my feathers, but close enough to tell me he had noted what I was. I expected him to change shape and fly up to speak with me, or fight with me, or at least demand why I so brazenly crossed his territory.

But the Great Whale Leviathan did not. He saw that I meant not to enter his waters and dove back into them, down into the depths I could not see even with my sharp avian eyes. I thought I had failed to get a rise from him, and satisfied myself with flying this shortcut to the Cinder Isles. I thought too soon.

I heard the water thrum, then explosively part. Shot from the waves came the whale’s massive form thrown into the air, mouth agape and tail still pounding powerfully, many times its height from the water and still rising. Coming for me. I had no time to divert my flight, so when I felt the updraft of wind preceding this sea monster I spread my wings wide and caught as much of that air as I could. I shot upwards, not daring to flap, lest the wild winds tumble me into that enormous, open mouth growing ever closer.

For a moment, for a stretch of time pulled far beyond its real length, I thought that mouth was the last thing I’d ever see. Me, wings cupped against the updraft, rising. The whale, shooting at me, ever more slowly, rising just a little less each moment. Then finally, the mouth snapped closed, and my form was thankfully still outside of it. I was blinded by the light of the full moon upon the nose of the whale, but while my eyes shut I kept my wings open to the wind. The whale came no closer and started falling away. Time resumed its normal pace as I flapped against the great reversal of the wind. The whale twisted as it fell, not nearly so cleanly splitting the air with its tail as it did with its snout. I stayed aloft amid the turbulence and watched him fall. The sound he made when it hit water was deafening - the slap echoed across the ocean and the waves spread outwards in a circle that dwarfed the other waves’ peaks and troughs.

I kept to my maximum altitude for the rest of the flight. No sense antagonizing the whale twice.

 **Hunt of the Great Whale**  
 _Captain’s log, 75th year of the Eternal Shogun, 1st of Descending Fire, Submergible-class Cyclops_  
We’ve set sail, three warships strong, the Kish Gambit, the Sunset Rogue, and the Cyclops captained by Hue Belum, Ferem Strou, and myself, Islesli Ortai, respectively. Our commission from the Shogun is to reclaim the lost city of Luthe, or Mobile Platform #3 as our recent archeological discovery names it. Unjust rebellion against the Shogun’s Mandate of Heaven roils the East, and forest fighting has been devastating for morale. A show of unstoppable strength might cow enough rebel sympathizers to starve the fighting forces of munitions and produce a diplomatic breakthrough with Sperimin, whose unexpected secession from the Realm has provided the rebels the sorcerous means to mount effective resistance as well as much-needed legitimacy. I’d like to see their faces when we point a gun they can’t counterspell at their precious libraries. 

I shall endeavor to put such political considerations behind me. I must become the captain and admiral our Wyld Hunt needs to be victorious. The Gambit scouts ahead, though we are many leagues away from our quarry, the Rogue follows along underwater. Diagnostics show that the Hide Piercer cannon here aboard the Cyclops is fully operational, ready to send whatever Anathema is rumored to be swimming around Luthe into the next life. From Luthe to Lethe; I like the sound of that.

 _Captain’s log, 75th year of the Eternal Shogun, 14th of Resplendent Fire, Submergible-class Cyclops_  
Navigation shows that we’ve made good time, caught the trade winds and been pulled along by the westerly current. The Essence pistons deserve most of the credit, is what I hear from engineering. One day I’ll need to get to the bottom of who’s correct, but I’ve never found the time to measure identical trips while isolating variables. That’s merchant’s work.

The struggle so far has been to stave off boredom from our Dragon-Blooded marines and their elite mortal fighters. They’re used to action. Yes, they’re also used to following orders, but that can only go so far, even with their exemplary discipline. I’ve suggested to the marine lieutenant that she drill her forces thrice a day, and she’s taken it to a zeal, going for five instead. That, and a liberal amount of sweetened tap alcoholic enough to get the dragons blitzed has kept all incidents minor and interpersonal. At least they’ll be in fighting shape when we arrive.

The members of the Immaculate Order pray, practice their katas, and read their texts. To watch them at it, one has the sense that they could continue for all time. Simply being on the hunt of an Anathema seems to fulfill them on a spiritual level I confess I don’t understand. It is unnerving. If it were not for their Dragon-Blooded abbot Song Wheel seeming by all appearances human while sharing meals with me and the rest of the senior staff, I’d assume they were replaced by spiritual machines while I had my back turned.

Then, there’s the mystery of the stowaway. The logs clearly indicate 125 souls aboard, an auspicious number. Yet each roll gathers 126 names. Every single passenger is vouched for; no one stands out. Every time I sit in my cabin and cross off each name, checking the roll against the log, I come up with a different, vouched-for name left over at the end. If I find out some clerk-private is playing with me, I’ll throw them overboard.

 _Captain’s log, 75th year of the Eternal Shogun, 28th of Descending Fire, Submergible-class Cyclops_  
The Rogue has sent word of readings on a great submerged structure. I hear Hue Belum lost a great deal of money wagering Ferem Strou that he would be the first to spot the city of Luthe. When we celebrate our victory, I’ll be sure to reprimand them both for placing wagers on official duties, strictly against regulation. But for now I’ll wait, morale must be at its peak for our assault. We’ve all configured to dive mode, and will be descending in formation, ready to blast anything that might impede us. Probably overcautious, but I didn’t spend three months sailing out here to rush the finish. I go now to the helm, to see the sunken city for the first time in a dozen generations, since the Usurpation laid it low. 

_Heptagram Historian’s Note_  
No further records survive from the Cyclops or her sister ships. We assume the Eternal Shogun never heard back from this expedition. What is clear from other sources is that she also never gained access to Mobile Platform #3, and was eventually overthrown when she lost control of each direction and subsequently the respect of his own court on the Blessed Isle. She was assassinated by her aunt, who briefly claimed Shogun’s right over all Creation under the moniker of the Sky Shogun, but was never able to expand her power base from the fraction of the Blessed Isle that supported her coup. That is the state of affairs for the next subject, the Wavecrest Shogun, who was able to exploit the fractured nations’ relatively few sea-trade routes into a series of brutally effective blockades launched from her Western empire. Her century of slow conquest is known as the Season of Privation or alternatively as the Smugglers’ Fortune Era. Each nation-faction eventually negotiated a light-handed fealty that resembled more of a trade consortium than a proper empire, but, since it spanned Creation for another century, the Wavecrest Shogun gains her title and chapter in these works.


End file.
